


Stealing Flowers

by lululawrence



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, American Harry, American Louis Tomlinson, Awkwardness, Bets & Wagers, Brooklyn, Everyone is American, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-02-16 18:14:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18696715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lululawrence/pseuds/lululawrence
Summary: When Louis finally arrived, he walked in and grabbed an apron. Without even saying hello, he immediately approached Jesy and said, “Sexy Stranger steals flowers.”She kept pouring the Tanqueray shots she had lined up in front of her, but her face screwed up in confusion. “I’m sorry, he what? Did you finally talk to him and that was what you learned?”He nodded to another couple of tourists and welcomed them to the Way Station as they eagerly made their way to the Tardis restroom.“No, I didn’t actually talk to him, but—”“Then how do you know he steals flowers?”She was wiping down the bar and stacking the empty glasses to take back to the dishwasher when Louis realized maybe he should help too. After all, he was there to work, not just talk to her about his maybe crush.“I saw a poster.”Or the one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway andalmostasks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn.





	Stealing Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm so excited for you to read this very ridiculous fic. It all came about because [Laura](https://harrehleh.tumblr.com) sent me a photo a year ago and said she wanted a fic for it. I immediately knew I wanted to do it, and then got distracted. Larry Abroad came about, and I knew it would be perfect for this. I had so much fun writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it too!
> 
> Massive thanks to my beta and Brooklyn/NYC pick, [Nic](https://louandhazaf.tumblr.com). As always, even with her amazing help, there are remaining mistakes and those are 100% mine. 
> 
> Huge thanks also go out to [Anitra](http://allwaswell16.tumblr.com) and [Ellie](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com) for running this fest! My prompt was Brooklyn.
> 
> The title shares a title with the song Stealing Flowers by Florence Joelle. Please do not repost or translate this fic without my express permission. Please also do not share it with anyone in any way affiliated with the band. This is a work of fiction, etc etc etc. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy!

When January ended, so did Louis’ lease on his horrid Upper West Side apartment, and he’d moved to Brooklyn with his coworkers Jesy and Niall. The first day he got on the Q line, Louis had been met with the most gorgeous set of green eyes framed by waves of glossy brown hair, and, ever since, Louis had studied the man from afar.

That had been winter, though. Louis had come to feel confident in his ability to not grow too attached and remain simply  _ pleased _ with the opportunity to enjoy a beautiful view on most of his morning commutes. Then, warmer weather came and the man shed his coat.

Louis was not prepared.

Louis had always been a fan of well sculpted shoulders and a toned back. There was something about knowing the muscles were present without them being overwhelming that got him a bit weak in the knees. And this man, on an unseasonably warm day in mid-April, was suddenly wearing a white t-shirt that was sticking rather pleasantly to his back.

Ever since then, Louis had talked about the man to Jesy and Niall, probably more than they wanted, and Jesy had even started calling him the “Sexy Stranger.” That was when Louis knew it had turned into a full-blown crush. 

By the time mid-May had rolled around, Louis knew he needed to act on it. The man regularly rode the train, so he didn’t think it would be too difficult for them to figure out a time and place to meet up  _ not _ during a morning commute. Louis thought he also maybe sometimes caught the man looking his way as well, but those times there was also an attractive person beside him, so the guy could have been making eyes at them instead for all he knew. 

One thing he did know, though, was that he would regret it if he didn’t at least  _ ask him. _

 

* * *

 

Louis stepped onto the train and hoped he was subtle enough as he looked around to see if his Sexy Stranger was on. They usually caught the same train to Manhattan whenever Louis was heading over for various auditions and other attempts to get an acting role for… well. Pretty much anything. 

As usual, there weren’t any seats available at this hour, so Louis found a spot he hoped would keep him mostly out of the way and got comfortable. He put his phone on airplane mode so he wouldn’t wear out the battery as it searched for service and pulled up a podcast he had downloaded. 

Phone back in his pocket, Louis looked around again, looking for a familiar head of curls and a set of shoulders he was possibly  _ too _ familiar with.

He’d just given up hope when a woman shifted and Louis saw him. 

Today, the man had his curls held back in a headscarf that somehow looked both bohemian and yet still suitable for office attire. Louis had no idea what the man did, but he always dressed well and looked professional, so he assumed it was something that paid well. That, and the man never seemed to go into work before nine or ten in the morning, so that was another indication for Louis that he wasn’t an assistant or something of the sort.

Louis had tried that life, and it was  _ not _ for him.

After admiring the man’s hair and the way the brown offset the interlacing bold reds and streaks of blue in the scarf, Louis let his eyes drift down to his shoulders and upper back. The man shifted, and his dress shirt moved with him. It was well fitted as it tapered down to hug his waist, and Louis  _ loved _ the way this man dressed himself. He knew his every advantage and dressed to impress. God, Louis would love to watch him just try on clothes. That would be enough to keep him happy for quite some time. In order for that to happen, though, Louis would have to finally stick his neck out and invite the man to dinner.

Asking him out was easier said than done, though. Louis had almost worked up the guts several times, but one of them was always disembarking before he could do so. The most he’d gotten out was a quiet, “Hello,” and a smile. It was progress, but not enough.

The announcement for Canal Street came, and both men disembarked before going their own ways. 

Well, maybe tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

Thanks to a late callback Louis had, he was later to his shift than usual. Plus, Louis had been stupid and forgotten his change of clothes for work, so he was going to be even more late than he already had been, but he could do a quick change better than any of the rest of them, so it was alright. He figured it was a Wednesday at the Way Station, he would be fine. They had a band booked, but he was still early enough to hopefully get there before the rush.

He jumped off at Beverley and was surprised to see a photo of a very familiar back taped outside the station.

It was on a sheet of white paper, photocopied in black and white and taped with the cheap packing tape, probably because whoever did it likely knew it wouldn’t stay up for very long either way. The photo was taken as Sexy Stranger was walking away from whoever took the photo, one hand gripping a pretty-looking bunch of flowers and the other holding gardening shears. He was walking down a walkway with flowers on both sides of him towards the street. It was a beautiful photo, Louis had to admit. He wondered if the person who took it had the original in color. They probably did, right?

Finally paying attention to the rest of the page, Louis realized there was definitely text to go with the photo. Of course there was. People didn’t just go around taping up shitty photocopied versions of their photos around Brooklyn. 

Along the top in ridiculously large font was printed the word  _ WANTED _ in all capital letters. Underneath, in a smaller font but still large enough to be read from a distance it read, “THIS BOY STEALS FLOWERS,” and underneath the photo it said, “He even brings his own scissors.” 

Louis snorted. This couldn’t actually be serious, could it? There was no way the man who was so polite he would give up, to almost anyone,  a rare seat he had garnered on the train? The man who looked like he harbored so much good will towards everyone that it leaked out of his dimples?

Shaking his head, Louis kept walking towards his house. The sign was strange, to say the least, and beyond that it was ridiculous. Who would actually go around to someone else’s yard that was obviously being tended carefully and just steal their flowers? Then again, this was New York. Louis had seen far more ridiculous things in his time here. Really, this was barely even a blip on his radar. The only reason it stood out to him was the fact he  _ knew _ that person. 

Kind of. God, Louis was so ridiculous. He didn’t actually know the man at all. 

Sighing, Louis hurried the rest of the way to his house. Jesy was going to flay him if he was much later to work and he really didn’t want a repeat of her constant bitching and refusal to wash her dishes like the last time he was unexpectedly late to a shift.

Louis was distracted enough as he changed into his uniform, but then he was left to his own devices after he caught the train. He’d almost convinced himself it didn’t even matter, but then he saw another  _ two _ of the posters as he walked to the bar. Which was weird, since Ditmas Park and Prospect Heights weren’t particularly close to each other.

When he finally arrived, he walked in and grabbed an apron. Without even saying hello, he immediately approached Jesy and said, “Sexy Stranger steals flowers.”

She kept pouring the Tanqueray shots she had lined up in front of her, but her face screwed up in confusion. “I’m sorry, he what? Did you finally talk to him and  _ that _ was what you learned?”

Louis shifted and handed her a tray for the customer to carry the shots to the other room where Louis could only assume the twelve shots would be put to good use. He nodded to another couple of tourists and welcomed them to the Way Station as they eagerly made their way to the Tardis restroom.

“No, I didn’t actually talk to him, but—”

“Then how do you know he steals flowers?”

She was wiping down the bar and stacking the empty glasses to take back to the dishwasher when Louis realized maybe he should help too. After all, he was there to work, not just talk to her about his maybe crush.

“I saw a poster.”

That made Jesy stop. “You saw a poster,” she said, completely deadpan.

“Yeah, the first one I saw was outside the Beverley station, but there were two more on the way here from the S.”

“What kind of posters?” Jesy turned to yell into the back so fast, her ponytail almost whipped Louis in the face. “Ni! I swear that party is going to want some more frozen margaritas in the next five minutes, so you better get the Patron up here before the girls get antsy and dock my tip!”

“Oh, God,” Louis said with a roll of his eyes, finally clocking in and taking note of the rest of the liquor stock. “Another bachelorette party?”

“Yeah, they’re nice but all want frozen drinks and I’m trying my best not to kill our already dying blender.” Arching a brow, Jesy said again, “Now, what kind of posters?”

Louis rolled his eyes. “You know, like one of those stupid homemade ones that usually advertise a need for a drummer or a lost dog. Except it had a photo of Sexy Stranger’s back, holding some flowers and gardening shears. It had a big ‘WANTED’ across the top and then said something like, ‘this man steals your flowers and brings his own scissors.’”

Jesy started giggling. The party she knew would want their frozen margaritas came back in with their empty glasses and ordered another round just as Niall returned with the new bottles of Patron. The three of them split up the drinks and soon enough had the varied requests ready to go.

“So you’re telling me this dudester goes around and steals flowers from other people’s yards? And got caught, so now this person took the time to not only take a photo of the guy in the act, but also made up  _ posters _ warning people about it?”

“It sounds like I made this shit up when you say it like that, but yes,” Louis said, pushing Niall out of the way so he could get to rinsing out the blender. “I just… I almost talked to him today. On the train. Like I truly almost did, but now I’m almost feeling like maybe I dodged a bullet, you know?”

“Yeah, cause you don’t wanna date a flower stealer.”

“The fuck are you two on about now?” Niall asked, hands on his hips. 

“Sexy Stranger steals flowers from people’s yards,” Jesy summed up before heading to the back with some more glasses.

Niall looked at Louis and just shook his head. “And you know this cause of posters? Is that what I heard before?”

“Yeah. I recognized the photo of his back.”

Niall patted Louis’ shoulder as he went over to ring out one of his customers. “Of course you did, you creepy fucker.”

Maybe Louis was creepy, but he couldn’t help but feel that in this instance it was for the best and saved him some grief.

 

* * *

 

Over the course of the next week and a half, Louis saw three other versions of the poster. Every time, they were put up near the Way Station as well as along Beverley, and he wasn’t sure if they were congregated around places where people had had issues with their flowers being stolen or whatever, but Louis kept finding himself staring at the man’s back before he realized what he was doing and walked away.

Once Louis saw the posters, every time he saw Sexy Stranger on the train, he tried to figure out if he could see some other flaw within the man. Louis thought if he had no qualms going around and taking the hard work of others straight out of their gardens, that there must be some other underlying fault. The imperfections had to show at some point.

The issue was, the more Louis looked for them, the more perfect this man seemed. He really was as good and kind and generous as he had seemed over the past few months, but Louis supposed that appearances could be deceiving.

It was finally Friday, a week after Louis saw the first poster, and he was having a rough time. He’d gotten word that three of the callbacks he’d had recently had all chosen someone else for roles he really was hoping for, as well as the fact that the audition for a play he was really excited about had decided to only do closed auditions and Louis wasn’t accepted.

It was okay. He’d get over it, just like he always had in the past, and today was an audition for a chorus member, so he hoped he at least had a decent chance at that. Chorus member was hard enough to get into, and a paying role was a paying role.

He had just flipped his phone into airplane mode and was about to reach into his bag to grab the music to study it once more when he heard a woman say, “How dare you!” 

Louis looked up, surprised at the loud voice, and saw a small, elderly woman taking her purse and hitting Sexy Stranger with it. She seemed to have a brick like Louis’ nan did to give it some punch, because the man winced as it made contact.

“No, it’s a misunderstanding,” the man said. “I don’t steal flowers, they’re  _ my own flowers! _ Those photos were all taken in my own garden by my roommate!”

“Taking advantage of people like that, it’s awful,” the woman said with one last hit before she made her way past and moved to the front of the train car.

Curious about what the man had said, Louis moved forward. The man was rubbing his arm and pouting at the floor, so Louis tried to make his way around him and leaned against the divider next to Sexy Stranger.

“Is that true?” Louis asked. 

The man’s head whipped up, his eyes widening when he saw Louis. 

“Those pictures were all from your own yard with your own flowers?”

“Oh my God, you saw them,” the man said, groaning and covering his face. “This is literally the worst thing Grim has ever done in his entire life.”

The familiar name sparked confusion within Louis. “Grim? Like Grimmy? The tall ridiculous man named Nicholas Grimshaw? Grim?”

The man’s face went a bit pale as he eyed Louis warily. “Yes,” he said slowly, drawing the word out far longer than its single syllable warranted. “How do you know him?”

“I work at the Way Station as well. I don’t often work the shifts he manages, but we’ve become friends. What does he have to do with anything?”

“Oh my God, this is all so much worse than I ever imagined,” the man said, his face now flushing bright pink. It was much nicer than when he was so pale Louis worried he might faint. “So, Grimmy is my roommate. He’s the idiot behind this whole mess.”

Louis couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “You must have really pissed him off or something to cause him to put up the kind of thing that would get you attacked by a feisty woman on the train.”

Pouting again, the man rubbed his arm again and said, “I wish I could say she was the first, but apparently the poster he put up yesterday that actually had my face has been seen by more people in the surrounding area than I ever expected.”

Louis snorted. “Well I’m glad I witnessed that and learned the information on them wasn’t real. I’m Louis, by the way.”

Holding his hand out between them, Harry grabbed his hand and Louis liked the way it felt. Soft. Strong.  _ Large. _

“I’m Harry,” Sexy Stranger said. Louis supposed he wasn’t technically a stranger anymore, especially if he lived with Grimmy, but Louis could worry about that later. For now, the more concerning issue was the confusion evident on Harry’s face. “Were you really so worried for those flowers as to be concerned some strange man you saw on the train most mornings was taking them?”

Louis flushed. ‘Most mornings,’ he said. That meant he had paid attention to Louis, just like Louis had paid attention to him. 

“Well, I had nearly worked up the courage to ask you on a date when I saw the first poster, so I was a little worried I might have ended up with a flower thief if it had all gone according to plan.”

Smirking, Harry crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth before saying, “You recognized me from the first poster?”

Louis’ eyes widened when he realized what he’d just done. “Well, I mean…”

“No, no,” Harry said, laughing a little as he moved out of the way so someone could get past them. “You could recognize me by a photo of my backside?”

“Oh my God,” Louis groaned, covering his face. It was apparently his turn to be embarrassed now. “All I’m saying, is I was concerned.”

When Louis finally dropped his hands, Harry was smiling enough to make his dimples pop out and all signs of his earlier playfulness were gone. Instead, he looked earnest to hear what Louis had to say when he asked, “Well now that you know the truth of the matter, does that mean your original plan is back in play?”

Louis flipped his head in an attempt to get his fringe out of his eyes. It mostly worked, but it was even better when Harry tentatively reached out and brushed it to the side. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Louis said with a smile. “You free Sunday afternoon?”

“Is that the eighteenth?” Harry asked, digging into his pocket for his phone to check the date.

“No, eighteenth is Saturday,” Louis clarified. Usually he had no clue what the date was, but he did this time because they had a special event planned that day at the Way Station. Due to that, he didn’t have a free minute from the moment he got out of his callback until they closed Sunday morning. 

“Oh, great,” Harry said, cheerfully. “Then I’ve got an event Grim is kinda forcing me into on Saturday, but I’m free on Sunday.”

Louis smirked. “You’re coming to the Way Station that night?” 

Things were coming together even better than he could have ever hoped.

Nodding, Harry said, “Right, you work there. Yeah, he kept talking about how the whole thing was his brain child and that one of the Doctors is actually coming?”

Louis rolled his eyes. “He is always saying shit like that and it never happens. My guess is he’s going to come in dressed like Capaldi himself and just do an awful Scottish accent.”

Harry let out a laugh so loud it was like a honk before his eyes widened and he glanced around. No one seemed to care either way, so he turned back to Louis.

“Yeah, sounds about right. So, want to exchange numbers or just talk details tomorrow at the bar?”

Louis licked his lips and looked to see his stop was the next one. The ride felt so much shorter actually being able to talk to Harry instead of just looking at him. Luckily, there was plenty of time to exchange numbers. 

“Here. Put your number in mine and I’ll do the same for yours.” Louis handed Harry his phone and they quickly added contacts.

“I’ll talk to you later, then,” Louis said, stepping off the train. 

Harry nodded and Louis finally turned around to look where he was going.

It wasn’t until he was up on the street that he realized that stop was also the one Harry usually disembarked at as well. He hoped Harry was going to a different location today and that he hadn’t been so distracted as to miss his stop.

The angry emojis Harry sent him later, talking about being late for work, implied otherwise. If Louis really was the reason for Harry being late, he couldn’t help but feel a little smug about it. 

 

* * *

 

“And Grim, I’m being serious here, he’s got the most beautiful hands?” Harry covered his face in embarrassment. He might be three sheets to the wind, but he knew what he was saying was ridiculous. He just couldn’t find it in himself to stop talking about the random hot guy he kept seeing on the subway. “I mean, I’m pretty sure his fingers aren’t as long as mine, but his hands are still so perfectly shaped and it looks like he takes good care of them.”

“Oh my God, are you done?”

Harry pouted and looked at Nick. “You’re not being very nice right now. I’m talking about the love of my life.”

“Yes, the love of your life whose name you don’t know yet because you can’t seem to actually speak to him,” Nick said, rolling his eyes and waving his hand with a flourish. Harry ducked a little out of fear he might reach his long arms over and accidentally smack Harry in the face. He didn’t. “Oh, Grim,” Nick said in a sad approximation of Harry’s deeper, slower voice. “I’ve never actually been attracted to armpit hair before in my life, but this man’s armpits are so gorgeous and perfect. And he’s super fit like he works out all the time, yet he somehow still has these gorgeous hips and a soft tummy!”

“I do not sound like that,” Harry argued, reaching out to swipe Nick’s beer. He missed and Nick continued.

“I just really want to make myself small and fit myself into his arms every time he reaches out to grab one of the overhead bars,” Nick said dramatically as he faux-swooned onto the couch. “I think I could fit perfectly into his arms!”

“Shut up,” Harry said again. “I’ve said none of those things. I only talked about how cute it was that he chews on his shirt when he looks restless and is stuck in a packed train car.”

Except he knew that was a lie. Harry really had said all of those things. He just didn’t think Nick had actually been listening during all of those times he’d randomly talked about whatever new thing he’d observed about the man.

“You are a lying liar who lies,” Nick said with a straight face. “You’ve also told me that there are only three men in the world who look good in grey sweatpants, and he’s the only one who isn’t a British soccer player.”

“Okay, fine,” Harry said, before downing the rest of his beer. It was his third—no, fourth? How many had he had?—on an empty stomach and he knew he would regret his decisions in the morning. “I have officially moved past puppy love or whatever you called it earlier and into hopelessly pining. He’s never going to speak to me, much less ask me out, and yet his shirts always pull so perfectly against the tiny amount of soft pudge at the bottom of his tummy.”

“Yes, and his shoulder blades are pure perfection, isn’t that right?”

“They  _ are,”  _ Harry practically wailed. It was always the man’s shoulder blades that got to him the most. When had he gotten this bad? He didn’t even remember falling this hard for his last boyfriend and yet, here he was, talking like this about a man he saw several mornings a week on his morning commute. “What is wrong with me, Grim?”

“I tell you what, I bet you can’t work up the nerve to talk to this guy by the end of next week.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his best friend. Nick loved bets, but he particularly loved bets that had spectacularly public consequences.

“What happens if I don’t?” Harry asked, warily.

“I get to take photos of you, whatever photos I like, and turn them into posters I’ll post at random around Brooklyn.”

“What the fuck,” Harry said, confused. “You came up with that stupidly random idea rather quickly, don’t you think?”

“Do you agree?” Nick asked.

“No,” Harry argued, rubbing his throat. He was so thirsty. How was he so thirsty when he’d been drinking all night? Maybe he needed a water. “What happens if I do?”

Nick shrugged. “You get a date with your dream man.”

Scrunching his nose, Harry said, “By the end of next week?”

“Yeah,” Nick said, standing up and stretching. “Is it a bet?”

“I guess,” Harry said. Even if he didn’t talk to the hot guy, there was no way the posters could be too bad, right? And it wasn’t like the guy would ever see them anyway, so it would be fine.

Totally fine.

“You’re on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading! I hope you liked it. Please consider leaving a kudos and a nice comment if you did. I would also be particularly fond of you if you gave my [fic post](https://lululawrence.tumblr.com/post/185656152253/stealing-flowers-lululawrence-harry-styleslouis) a reblog!


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